


We are the same but our lives move along

by whimsicule



Series: Under the Lights [4]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, post retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 14:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicule/pseuds/whimsicule
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo looks just like when they met almost twenty years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We are the same but our lives move along

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is.

Leo is quiet that night, face close to a book David can tell he’s not really reading. He sighs noiselessly, takes his reading glasses off his nose (it still annoys him that he needs them now, despite Leo telling him that he likes the way they look on him) and puts his magazine down on the bedside table.  
  
“You’ve been quiet today,” he says and waits for Leo to give him his attention.   
  
Leo lets the book drop to his chest and turns his head. “Have I ever been talkative?” he asks an quirks up a brow.  
  
It makes David smile in spite of himself. Stretched out on the sheets in their bed, in the dim light of the bedside lamps, Leo looks just like when they first met almost twenty years ago. The lines on his face are smoothed away by the shadows and his body is as lithe and wiry as it’s always been.   
  
“I know,” David says. “But today… Listen, you know how Olaya gets, her mouth is quicker than her head and with Nora getting engaged - I don’t know why she brought that whole marriage thing up again. She didn’t mean to upset you.”  
  
Leo blinks at him. “Why would I be upset?” he asks quizzically.  
  
“I don’t know, I just - figured,” David explains, not really knowing himself. He just knows this has always been a delicate subject; they never talked about it much when they were younger, then the kids piled the pressure on when they’d gotten older (especially after Patricia had gotten re-married and the girls had gotten new dresses)… it slipped off his radar until this day and they’ve never really sat down and talked.  
“Would you - okay, I don’t know how to ask this, but do you want to get married?”  
  
Leo looks at him with this sort of calm that David has only seen in his expression a few times before; before his first Champions League final, after paparazzi had caught them together, after his mother had taken ill; when Pep rejoined Barcelona for good. It still unsettles him sometimes, to see Leo so utterly centred.   
  
“David, I know how you feel about this. I don’t need some certificate to prove that we care for each other,” and he formulates it so simply and yet his words still lay heavy in David’s belly.  
  
“I’m not asking if you need it. I’m… I am asking if you _want_ to get married.”  
  
He grows quiet and still and David can tell how Leo mulls it over in his head, how he thinks and ponders and something stirs inside of him, like he is suddenly afraid of Leo’s answer and what it’d mean to him if he said - David doesn’t know what he wants Leo to say.  
It’s then that Leo smiles, the small and quiet kind, almost like a secret he doesn’t want to be seen, and he reaches out his hand for David’s to instinctively take hold of it.   
David weaves their fingers together, feeling the restlessness in his gut settle down as Leo’s thumb rubs a circle onto his wrist.  
  
“Of cours I want to marry you,” Leo says, eventually, perhaps even finally.  
  
David realises with surprise that he almost breathes a sigh of relief.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Leo furrows his brows. “Okay what?”  
  
David feels his lips twitch. “What, you want me to get down on my knees? Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m kinda getting old.”  
  
“David, you,” Leo says and swallows. He shuffles into a sitting position. The book falls off his chest and drops to the floor with a thud. “You said you wouldn’t again, after the divorce, and - I don’t want you to do this for my sake, just because - because I have this idea in my head that it might be nice.”  
  
“Leo,” David says, not firmly, but with a tone he is aware Leo is familiar with. “I know what I said then, but - I said a lot of stupid things back then and I never apologised for them. I wanted this, I wanted you - I still do and I don’t regret it - but it was hard. But that doesn’t mean I can’t change my mind.”  
  
The look on Leo’s face shifts to disbelief. “So, you’re saying -“  
  
David can’t help the smile that stretches his lips because he’s almost fifty and suddenly feels like half his age, his ancient heart beating lively in his chest, as if they were in their twenties again, on top of the world, and still in free fall, falling in love.  
  
“Yeah,” he breathes and pulls Leo in until he can see the fine lines around his eyes, carved into his skin by smiles and laughter and tears and life, until he can see the first silver hairs at his temples and feels his breath, still minty from toothpaste.

  
“Lets get married.”


End file.
